Inside Croydon: On London Road - How a community turned grief into a chance for change

"I wouldn't wish this on anyone... enough's enough," community worker Anthony King tells Ria Chatterjee. Click above to watch part one of her special series.

London Road is 2.6 miles long. It curves its way northwards from West Croydon overground station to Norbury train station. Or southwards from Norbury to Croydon, depending on which way you look at it. And in many ways, this is a story of perspective.  

At 90 London Road, next to a secondary school and opposite a Turkish restaurant, sits the Croydon Voluntary Action centre. The automatic entry door is constantly chugging open and shut, as local people drop by seeking advice and support for a range of matters. 

It's Monday January 25 - the week of Jermaine Cools' funeral. Jermaine was stabbed and killed in November 2021, just a few hundred yards away. He was fourteen years old. We are beginning filming for a four-part series, Inside Croydon: On London Road¸ where we hope to capture the depth of feeling as the community prepare to commemorate the short life of this teenage boy. 

The camera operator and I, Joe Mander, are welcomed into the centre with smiles and cups of tea and frequent reminders that if we need anything we are to simply ask. 

The atmosphere is jovial. Employees from different charities emerge from their offices and banter in the corridors sometimes. 

"Ria, see what I have to put up with?" jokes one woman as her face breaks into a sunny grin. She's talking about Anthony King. We all chuckle. Anthony works for PJs Community Services, a social enterprise that provides care and educational support to vulnerable people. He is never far from a funny quip. Perhaps there's good reason for this.

Anthony has sat with multiple families who have lost their children to stabbings in the area. When it comes to perspective he can shapeshift.

Not only does Anthony know a lot of people with high-stakes in tackling youth violence - parents, teachers, police officers, musicians, business owners and young people at risk - he grasps the nuances of people's different viewpoints.

We begin our week of reporting on a small section of London Road, known to some as 'the strip.' It's a vibrant, diverse thoroughfare. But, a youth worker sees more than just a lively street. 

On London Road the moments worth spotting can be lifesaving - if you know what you're looking for. Anthony King knows.  

At 5pm, as people return home from work and children from school, Anthony and I wander a few hundred yards from the community centre. As you'll see from the first episode, some young people disperse in different directions when they see the camera. 

One young man describes being in and out of police cells that week. 

He says "What are you really gonna do if you're really hungry? You've just got to figure things out [in that way.]" 

That evening the atmosphere feels thick with tension, like it might be possible to tear into the air as if a bread roll. I put that thought to Anthony and he nods in agreement. 

He describes the chaotic energy of the teenagers we meet as "stress and fear." At one point we watch Anthony interrupt a critical situation. He's able to do that because he's clearly trusted, respected and valued as a mentor and guardian by many young people in the area. 

It's a moment that encapsulates what we've long known but don't stress enough - youth workers save lives. 

That same evening, by chance, we bump into Jermaine Cools' step-brother who points to the shrine for his brother, "People have already forgotten. No one cares," he says.

Shortly afterwards, Jermaine's mother, Lorraine Dudek, stops to tell us that she feels physically ill walking down the road where her son was killed, but it's her route home.

She regularly tends to Jermaine's shrine which is on the pavement, tucked into the wall. People do stop and help sometimes, she says, though she understands her stepson's feelings. "People just forget," Lorraine resignedly tells us.   

If the week is about capturing one community's feelings, then the sense of determination and action cannot be ignored. 

We film at a funeral directors that's recently started bereavement support in schools for those who've lost friends. Out of seven under-twenty five year olds fatally stabbed last year, five were teenagers. 

With the family's consent we also witness preparations for Jermaine's funeral. They want people to see this devastating reality.

Jermaine's family wanted people to see the funeral preparations to highlight the effect violence was having on families. Click above to watch part two.

The Roland Brothers Funeral Directors have been serving South London since the 1800s. I ask the head of the Bereavement Aftercare Team what it's like supporting families of children who've been murdered "It's unspeakably horrific. You actually can't rescue people in that place, but what you can do is walk with them."

The next day, at the funeral, the large hall swells with love and unity. It flourishes in small moments.

A young woman called Kaydee accompanies every young person who wants to share a memory about Jermaine onto the stage, quietly rubbing their backs and whispering encouragement when they falter. She caringly brushes aside Amanie's (Jermaine's sister's) hair as she takes a moment to gather strength to share some tales of life with her little brother.

During the funeral, faith leaders and youth workers speak frankly about violence impacting young people. 

The Bishop calls for collective action: "It's about us living in a community where we need each other. We need the Met, we need the social services, we need a church. We need every aspect so we can all stand together as one." 

"Why am I carrying my brother in a box? I didn't want to be here today," said Jermaine's older brother Scott. Click above to watch part three.

The Chair of Croydon's Safer Neighbourhood Board makes an impassioned, direct plea to people to lift the "wall of silence" around Jermaine's murder. 

"If you know something, if you know someone who needs help… this is the only way we'll get help. And we need help." 

Though this happens when the family momentarily leave the room, a murder appeal during a funeral feels unorthodox and is a stark, uncompromising reminder that the family and community cannot rest peacefully even though that's what they reluctantly wish for Jermaine.

London Road in Croydon is one of eight areas in the capital to get funding from the Mayor's Violence Reduction Unit for a project called 'My Ends.' The idea is that frontline workers, in areas impacted by "high and sustained levels of violence," design hyper-local interventions. 

Anthony King is the Chair of My Ends Croydon and the project is a consortium of local charities. One of their objectives is early intervention.  

A couple of days before the funeral we film at a primary school on London Road. Two police officers, youth workers and a headteacher meet. As ever, Anthony King appears to be the binding glue. He takes time to introduce each person round the table, offering thoughtful insights about the person's character and values.

Inside the Croydon school where the headteacher doesn't want her pupils to be "defined by a postcode". Click above to watch part four. 

The key question: what systems can we put in place at an early stage to protect these children from potential violence in the future? Anthony speaks in his usual measured and thoughtful manner. He says the area is troubled.

The headteacher says she doesn't want her pupils to be "defined by a postcode." 

Building emotional and social skills lies at the heart of early intervention, and, ensuring that children have positive role models. The local police officer heads into one of the classrooms and, much to the delight of the children, he shares that he likes writing poetry and reads one he's written recently. 

Patrick Hutchinson, the activist who carried an anti-Black Lives Matter protestor to safety (a photograph of which went globally viral) is also visiting the children. 

Anthony makes it clear why his presence is important, "The children should see someone like Patrick in the community to understand why it's important that we go against the grain; that we don't just go with some of the prejudices and social narratives that are out there."

The children's excitement is palpable. It's in the widening of their eyes when Anthony describes what Patrick did; it's in their unbridled laughter when he makes a joke about someone picking their nose. 

They are the future of this community. As we're walking down the hall a reception pupil wanders over to us and declares "I really want to go up to the moon to see all the aliens!" He stretches his tiny body into the sky and points upwards.